


Something to Hold Onto

by darwinsdonut



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Cats, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Pining, brief angst, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darwinsdonut/pseuds/darwinsdonut
Summary: Tucker works at a coffee shop. Washington comes in every morning at 7:15. Tucker is trying so hard.





	Something to Hold Onto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ApathyPrism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApathyPrism/gifts).



**_January 6th_ **

 

"Another day, another dollar, eh? Bet you're glad the coffee's are only a dollar."

The tired guy across the bar stared at Tucker with shadowed eyes. "Uh- yeah. Here's... Black coffee, please."

"Coming right up."

Tucker put the dollar in the cash register with his customer service smile and quickly poured the guy a steaming to-go cup and handed it to him. "Have a nice day!"

"Uh. Yeah, you, too."

He swept out the door and Tucker sighed after him. Church came out of the kitchen, wiping soapy water off his hands on a towel. "Dude- you've gotta stop letting him think the coffees are a dollar."

Tucker leaned on the counter, pretending he wasn't watching the way the stranger's butt moved in those gym shorts. Church elbowed him and Tucker just tilted his head while the hot guy disappeared around the corner, taking those sweet glutes with him. Tucker sighed in wist and Church rolled his eyes.

"I'm just sayin', you're never gonna get that guy."

Tucker leaned back from the counter. "Think what you want, Church, but someday- someday he's gonna be mine. At least for a night. Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

Church rolled his eyes, heading back to the kitchen. "That's exactly why it's never going to happen, Tucker!"

"I can dream!"

 

~~~

 

**_February 4th_ **

 

Snow drenched the sidewalk as the stranger walked in, busy on a phone call, and leaned on the wall. Routine time- a quarter past seven. Tucker's upstairs neighbor, from the apartment complex across the street, had just disappeared after some silent glaring, probably to continue his Craigslist search for a "partner." Tucker forgot all about him as the stranger touched a shoulder to the wall just inside the door, phone pressed to his ear, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can't- that's- that's not my name! It's WASH! Like Washington!"

Even from the counter, though he pretended to wipe it down and not listen, Tucker heard a shrill voice from the other end of the phone: "David! It's DAVID! I named you DAVID! Now listen to me-"

The stranger- Wash- hung up the phone and kept his hand on his nose. He pocketed the phone and groaned, and Tucker noticed his cheeks were blotchy, eyes puffy, and nose red, eyes more shadowed than usual. Wash offered a half-attempted smile and reached the counter. "Hey, uh... Black coffee?"

"Sure!" Tucker said, and grabbed a cup while Wash reached in his wallet.

"Sorry about... That," Wash said, gesturing toward the door as he dug around in a leather bifold. "Just... Some family problems."

Tucker filled the cup with steaming liquid. "You wanna... Talk about it? Coffee shops are kinda the perfect place for that sort of thing."

"Ah... No, thank you, I just- fuck." He closed his eyes briefly, and Tucker saw him waver. Wash looked up, shale gray eyes Tucker saw were flecked with amber, and sighed. "I- I'm sorry- I'm- I don't have-"

Tucker processed in about 0.3 seconds that this guy didn't have a fucking dollar to his name. "Don't worry about it." He passed the cup to him. "On the house."

Wash glanced from the cup to Tucker. "I can't take advantage-"

"Dude. Our coffee has never been a dollar. You've been taking advantage of me for two months. Why stop now?"

A cough broke through Wash's surprise, and then he stared at Tucker. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Tucker shrugged. 'Gay for you in them gym shorts' didn't seem like the right answer. "Uh... I just do that kind of thing sometimes." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, come on, take the coffee. You need it, clearly."

He chuckled. "Yeah, probably. Uh... Thanks."

He started to turn away, and Tucker all but shouted, "Oh, wait!"

"Hmm?"

"Listen, man, don't take this the wrong way, but if you can't even find a dollar, I'm sending some tea and toast with you." Tucker was already reaching for the box of teabags, seeing the protest rise in Wash's eyes. "Don't say no. The tea will help your immune system, and the toast... Well, it's just really fuckin' good. You'll like it. Trust me."

Wash's eyebrows creased. "How do you know what I'll like? I get the same thing every day."

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes or anything, man, but you come in here 80% of the time with a raspberry danish or a grilled cheese. You're here every day. It's not that hard to figure out."

Wash waited as Tucker put the teabags and toast in the stupidly fancy paper bags the coffee shop used, and then Tucker handed them to him.

"Ah- thanks," Wash said.

Tucker nodded and met his eyes. "Anytime."

Wash half-smiled and headed out.

Church called from the kitchen, "You know that's gonna come out of your paycheck, right?"

"Suck a dick, Church!"

 

~~~

 

**_Feb 14_ **

 

Tucker wasn't nervous. Tucker was never nervous. Tucker had that bow-chicka-bow-wow swagger vibe going. What the fuck was nervous? Fuck you. Just because it's Valentine's Day and he wanted to actually hit on someone that didn't mean he was automatically nervous. Fuck you. Bow-chicka-bow-wow swagger!

7:15 a.m. Tucker stared at the clock, nodded a beat in his head, had the coffee ready. Wash had skipped the coffee shop three days after being sick and Tucker had been afraid he scared the dude off, but then he came back more conversational than ever and talked to Tucker almost every day. Still 7:15. Tucker was ready; he had the coffee, he had the toast, he was kind of Wash's sugar daddy now but only for coffee and he got nothing out of it, but that was fine! It was all fine. It was still seven-fucking-fifteen. But it was fine! He wasn't nervous. Fuck you.

7:16. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't pacing. He wasn't washing down the table he'd just washed three minutes ago. He wasn't ignoring Church's stupid told-you-so looks.

7:17. He wasn't nervous. He wasn't nervous!

7:18.

7:19. Maybe he wasn't going to come today- maybe he got HIT BY A CAR- 

The door swung open. Tucker, ferociously sweeping a dust-bunny out of the corner, froze mid-swoosh. "Wash! I- good mor- hi!"

Definitely not the smooth opening Tucker had hoped for, but he could still recover. He swallowed heavily, smiled too wide, and set the broom in the corner.

"Hope it's not weird I got your coffee ready already; it's- that rhymed- you're always here around the same time, so I just figured-"

"Thanks."

And he slumped over to the counter, grabbed his coffee and toast, and headed for the door. Tucker pretended he wasn't watching, grabbed his broom, and swept in a much more dismal fashion.

 

7:37.

The door opened again.

Tucker glanced up from a bored counter and the condescending eyes of Church to see Wash had come in again. He gaped, and saw an opportunity for the smooth opening he'd had planned for today. "Hey, Wash, I see-"

"Tucker!" Wash all but sprinted to the counter. "Tucker, I have the BEST NEWS."

Tucker's smooth opening, ruined again. "W- what is it?"

"I JUST ADOPTED A STRAY CAT."

Tucker just stared. "A cat."

He meant it to come out as a question but it fell flat. Wash's excitement never wavered. "YES! It's this little tabby, it was in the alley outside! I heard it on the way in, that's why I kind of ran out- thank you for the coffee- and anyway now its name is Theodore Fursevelt. I'm calling him Teddy."

Tucker struggled. "A cat."

"Yes! Would you want to meet him?"

Tucker's eyes widened. "You mean- go- go to your place?"

Tucker's throat wasn't closing. Your throat was closing. Shut the fuck up. Fuck you, nothing about that made him feel nervous.

Wash seemed to realize then what he'd offered, but moved on. "Would you- would you want to? After your shift?"

Church dropped something in the kitchen and Tucker barely suppress a hell-yeah.

"Uh- I mean, I had a lunch-date planned, but-"

From the kitchen: "SHUT THE FUCK UP, TUCKER, DON'T BE A BITCH!"

Tucker laughed, and then more at the confusion on Wash's face. "Uh... Yeah, yeah that'd be great. Swing by at 12 and I'm yours!"

Wash grinned and raised his eyebrows, and then laughed. "Nice wording. I'll see you then."

And he walked out while Tucker all but died.

 

~~~

 

**_March 1st_ **

 

Stupid indie music played as Wash swept into the coffee shop with cheeks red from the city winds and a bright smile. Wash approached the counter and held out a piece of paper. "Concert. You and me. This Friday."

"What!?"

Wash nodded. "I've been getting my shit together; I can actually buy my own coffee now, but I'll never turn down free coffee. However! Concert tickets seem like a pretty good compromise."

Tucker had gotten more comfortable around Wash over the past almost-month since the cat thing, and could actually TALK in his presence now, but Tucker still didn't know how to deal with his completely ass-related feelings for the dude. "Uh- I- dude!"

"So that's a yes?"

"Hell yeah!"

Wash grinned. "Awesome! So I'll see you there. Meet me here, Friday, six p.m.?"

"Yeah! Sounds great!"

Wash nodded. "Alright, cool. I'll see you then. You might not see me much this week- I've got some work meetings coming up, might start earlier. You... Hmm. You."

And he finger-gunned and walked out.

Tucker watched him walk away in absolute awe and amazement. When Haddaway had asked what love was, he'd clearly never met Wash. Holy fuck.

And watching him walk away in the black slacks he wore to work? Made gym shorts look like thrift-shopping.

Church stood in the kitchen doorway with flour and wide eyes. "Dude. You actually got him."

 

~~~

 

**_March 8th_ **

 

The coffee shop was dismally quiet. 7:15 had come and gone with no event, and Tucker hadn't expected anything else. It had been like that since Friday. But now, at 2:41 p.m., the door opened. Tucker had nineteen minutes left of his shift. Wash walked in with pocketed hands. "Can I- can we talk?"

Tucker looked away. "I'd... Rather not."

"Tucker, please- I didn't mean any of what-"

"Wash. I'm working."

"After work?"

"After work, I'm going home. It's... Probably best if you get your coffee somewhere else from now on. This is my workplace; I'm supposed to be a professional."

"Tucker-"

"No, Wash." He tried to keep his eyes on the counter, but they dared drift up, and locked onto a broken shale gaze. His voice broke over his next syllables: "I can't."

Wash stared another fragmented moment, and then swept out the door, slamming it behind himself.

Tucker couldn't even enjoy watching him leave.

The fucking door to the kitchen swung open and Church was there, confused green eyes and coffee in hand. "Dude- do you... I dunno, do you need a minute?"

Tucker took a deep breath and looked up, forcing on that same Customer Service smile. "Ah... No, dude, I'm good."

"What, um- what happened?"

"He's... I'm not his type."

Church took a moment, and then, "Oh. Just... I mean, there's a lot that could-"

"He's not racist; he's just..." An idiot. Fucking stupid. Not worth his time. Fucking- stupid- asshole- "Confused."

Church nodded. "Well, uh... If you need me to beat him up-"

Tucker snorted, and it hurt to even try to laugh right then. "No, Church, it's- it's fine. Don't worry about it."

Church nodded again, disappeared back into the kitchen.

Tucker didn't actually want to be alone.

It felt so much more real without someone there to distract him.

 

~~~

 

**_Apr 1_ **

 

7:14. Tucker wiped off the counter. Stupid indie music played. Wiped down a table. Complained to Church. Laughed. Saw the time on the clock. Pretended-

7:15.

The door opened.

Tucker froze, facing away from the door, facing the coffee pot, heard footsteps approach. The clock on the wall couldn't be right. Was it- was it daylight savings time? No, that was like... A month ago. A few weeks ago. Three day- it didn't fucking matter. He just fucking. Stood there. Waited.

The footsteps stopped on the other side of the counter.

"You don't have to talk to me or even acknowledge I'm here."

Tucker could hear those sweet dismal tones and they rang like windchimes against his ribs.

"I... Tucker, I'm an idiot. I'm so fucking stupid, and I'm not worth your time. I'm a fucking stupid asshole. And I'm willing to try so goddamn hard to be whatever it takes to convince you to give this another try. I don't- god, now that I'm not being an idiot, I don't know how I ever thought I was straight. I'm- I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm like this. I deny things and I pretend they didn't happen like that even though my memory is stupidly good, and I just destroy things that would make happy. I get attached to things that aren't good for me and I let go of things I shouldn't. And you're- you're something to hold onto. I never came here for coffee. I came here for you, Tucker."

Tucker stayed frozen another second- and then heard that IDIOT doubt himself again- "I'm sorry, I'll just- I'll just go- this is your workplace- I shouldn't have-"

He cut off as Tucker whirled around the counter and launched himself at Wash. He grabbed Wash by the jaw and pulled him down, stared into those shale eyes just as they closed, and then finally touched lips that spouted words far too self-doubting and he poured love into them. He finally got what he'd wanted for so long, just to kiss Wash, to show him how he felt, and he didn't care that he was in the coffee shop still, he didn't care about his apron or Church dropping the goddamn muffin pan in the kitchen doorway or the stupid indie music. He cared about Wash. And he withdrew, and he breathed, and he met those shale eyes.

"Goddammit, Wash. You don't have to try to be anything. Just being you is too good for me."

"Tuck-"

"No." Tucker raised his eyebrows, and then started to grin, seeing the laugh build in Wash's eyes. "No. No more of that self-deprecation. Fuck that shit. I care about you, and as long as you want to be here, you're welcome to this coffee-shop- and me."

Wash lowered his lips to Tucker's one more time, and Tucker closed his eyes and relaxed into it and let it consume him. When this one ended, Tucker took a breath and stared into Wash's eyes. "That's the gayest shit to ever happen in this coffee shop."

Wash laughed. "I'm sure, and I'm thrilled to be a part of it."

"Good, because it's about to happen again-"

"YOU'RE STILL ON THE CLOCK, TUCKER!"

"SUCK MY ASS, CHURCH!"

"TELL HIM TO DO IT!"

Tucker cackled as Wash's jaw dropped, and it was then Tucker noticed Wash was wearing those fucking gym shorts, and he laughed more, and, goddammit, he was happy.

"Hey, Wash?" Tucker said, once he could.

"Yeah?"

"You mind if I find something to hold onto?"

Wash tilted his head to the side, and Tucker directly grabbed his ass in those gym shorts. Ah, yes- just as he'd always wanted: the bodacious booty was Tucker's.

Wash tossed his head back. "Good god, what have I gotten myself into?"

Tucker laughed and raised his hand to pull Wash to him in a hug. He laid his head on Wash's shoulder and relished the feeling of Wash's chest against his.

God, yes- something to hold onto.

 


End file.
